April 8--San Juan, Puerto Rico

I chose sleep. And slept until 7am, give or take—I did have some more bad dreams, but other than that, all was well.

We were already parked at San Jose by the time I got up. I ate breakfast, put suntan lotion on my arms and nose, and headed out. It was mostly cloudy, and in fact it rained (lightly) twice during the day, but I only needed to duck under an awning once when the rain got too hard. I had torn out the AAA guide’s walking map, which turned out to be well worth it, particularly since the tourist office was closed when I first got off the ship.

San Jose has more statues than any other place I’ve been, I think. I took pictures of most of them, so we’ll have to see if they come out (I did drop my camera on some concrete and buckled the case a tiny bit, but it still seems to be working).

I headed west outside the city walls, which are high and pretty imposing. I walked around underneath (well, sort of—it was above me behind the walls) the Presidential palace, and to the main gate, then up a hill past a lot of feral cats to the big Fort. I didn’t walk to the fort, because I’ve seen forts elsewhere, but I did walk over to one of the walls to see a very ornate cemetery below. I then took a short rest sitting on a building that turned out to be the first mental asylum (how appropriate!), then past the second oldest church in the Western hemisphere, then down narrow roads paved with blue glass-like bricks to the Cathedral. I had heard that Ponce de Leon was buried there, but I looked and couldn’t find it. I then wandered to the Presidential palace, which is damn big and very fortified, then to a shrine built to hopefully prevent deaths via horseracing (some guy raced his horse right off the cliff) which also housed a plaza dedicated to pigeons—I didn’t feed them, because it apparently is like something out of “The Birds”.

A lot of the buildings looked similar to those in New Orleans and Key West: built for ventilation with lots of windows/doors on all the walls (most of which were now glassed in, presumably due to air conditioning and exhaust fumes from the constant traffic). I walked to City Hall plaza and sat there for quite some time, enjoying the shade and watching people go by. I used the restroom at a Starbucks (I had to wait until someone left, since the door locked, but I did get to read the local paper while I was waiting), then headed east.

I stopped again at a plaza or two, plus another church (I went down into the crypt, but it was a bit too creepy for me so I turned and fled), then to Columbus Plaza (with a big statue of guess-who), where I bought a ocarina carved out of a caroda (spelling?) nut. I didn’t want to go back to the ship and still had a couple of hours, so I walked back to City Hall plaza and watched a couple of kids run the pigeons all over the place. Then back to the ship, where I ate and watched for the “running of the tourists”, since the captain had said that he wouldn’t wait for stragglers. I did see a couple run, but nobody at the absolute last minute. We then left and headed out past the fort (which is why the fort was put there) and headed east toward Haiti.

And this is when I saw the ice skating show. Yes, ice skating. Independence of the Seas has a tiny rink low and centered on the ship, but it’s large enough that the dozen skaters (that I think double as the dancers on days they’re not skating—one Canadian, three or four American, the rest Russian) could get up some good speed. There were a number of jumps that I would swear were triples, but they were doubles at least. And I got the answer to: what do skaters do when the ice has moved since they went up into the air: they fall down. We were rolling pretty well, and a couple of skaters wound up on their butts. They then got up and continued like nothing had happened; I suspect it’s not uncommon. A nice show with music throughout the ages, ranging from Mozart to Charlie Daniels (there was a violin/fiddle motif); my favorite was when they played “I go to Rio” from the Broadway recording of “The Boy from Oz”—gotta love Hugh Jackman singing! I wonder how much royalties he makes from this? They put another voice singing along with him to make it less obvious, but it was him! I have no idea, by the way, what they were skating on; it was cool but not cold in there. I enjoyed the show very much—more than the stage show, I think.

When I went back on deck, for the first time, really, it was hot. I don’t think it was the contrast from the ice rink; before, there was always a wind, which makes it bearable, but at times after we left the wind died down (we’re now headed the same direction as the wind, which cuts down the breeze considerably) and it felt very humid and warm. So I found a nice spot in the shade with a view of the ocean (another flying fish spotting!) until dinner, where I went back to my room, showered, and sat to write this. I’m tired again, so it’s going to be another early night. Not a bunch of fun, am I! But it is restful. And I may need it tomorrow, where I will likely burn to a crisp. I thought seriously about buying a jug of aloe, and didn’t; I may regret that.

Lots of rocking and rolling of the ship! I’m glad I don’t get motion-sick.